2 posts tagged “idf”

coming home at 2130 - thats when you know my boss is back. but i am glad hes back. its nice to have him here again to really be digging our teeth in.

the office is changing - well, with these promotions and new people there's just a different dynamic. its not bad, but it will take some getting used to.

but, i got most everything done today. and then somehow it as 1930hrs. god, time really flies! i had time to go to the gym, finish up some stuff, come home, eat dinner - i just finished, and now its bed time. although, to be fair, i REALLY feel like bed. it looks so lovely over in the other room, calling my name.

i had a frustrating few phone calls this evening. i had to fax out a letter for my boss to some top brass in the israeli army. one office, found both letters first time AND were polite on the phone - they get a gold star. the other office took three phone calls, four sendings of the second letter, but they were polite - so half a gold star or a whole silver one. the third office took four sendings of the first letter, got the second, but got frustrated when i kept calling to check it - no star. the fourth office? i got someone who spoke hebrew and when i couldn't respond she just hung up on me, twice!

ah yes. and thats when my job sucks. but then i sit and remember that i am 22, and think of what everyone else has had to go through to get where they are.

thats the problem of my generation, everyone things they're someone before they've actually done anything. you had to earn that respect and earn that coveted 'someone' status. you don't go from graduate to right hand man in a day. it takes lots and lots of hard work. i am slowly working my way up the ladder to that responsibility level, but you have to be willing to put in the hours, and you have to take the good with the bad.

nothing is free, but you also don't get to be somewhere, to do something, if you've done nothing.

a mind like a diamond....

I know that I seem to start every post saying this, but this has been another long, long week. Although, it has also been filled with adventures and new experiences.

I suppose that I should outline what life is really like here, since several people have emailed me with comments that make me think that I haven’t quite explained it right! Every morning I have to catch the convoy in to work at 07:05hrs. If you are not there the convoy leaves you. Now, this might sound kind of cool. Its not. This is not a choice, it is a requirement. I have to ride in the convoy (of armoured vehicles, with armed cp officers) because of the security situation. Its only a few km’s away. I would love to walk to work. But that is not an option. Walking anywhere is not an option. I have the opportunity to walk the 10ft from the entrance of my building to the car every morning. Thats all the time I get in ‘free’ space. At all other times I am on the UN compound. Unless we are being escorted on field visits, and then, again, we travel in armoured vehicles with cp’s and we go straight from the vehicle into the installation.

Still sound cool? Its not. I don’t get to do my own grocery shopping. I don’t get to take in my own dry cleaning. I have to guess at what is in the shops and ask a messenger to go and buy it for me. The highlight of my last weekend? The opportunity to go grocery shopping myself. Its really sad. And even that took at least of day of planning. The area has to be approved, our FSCO has to approve the visit, we have to request a hardened vehicle and driver and an escort team. All so that we can go to the grocery store.

I might love it here and enjoy what I am doing. But it is definitely a hardship station. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about that. This is not a comfortable or fun (in the conventional sense of the word) life. But, you make do with what you can and you work something out.

This week I have been particularly bad about writing. Mostly because my internet has been out at home - its a long, long story which I will attempt to recount. But also because it has been a long and draining week. And I have been decidedly distracted by the prospect of being able to finally go out for a weekend and return to my beloved London for some (much needed) time off.

On Friday I finally took a day off. It was absolute bliss. I lounged around the house and didn’t really do anything at all. I contemplated going into the office and then realised that even if I went in and took care of my business, no one else who I needed to be taking care of their stuff was going to do anything on a Friday afternoon. I am learning how to work in the system, I might not like it, but I am learning how to get by and what I need to do to get things done. However, I think in the process I have managed to get myself blacklisted on several peoples agendas. More on that later....

So Friday was filled with catching up on TV shows, finishing my book, doing laundry - which actually turned out okay, no more pink clothes! - and in general lounging about and not really doing anything.

Saturday was adventure day. I got to go grocery shopping!!! And visit a few other shops. Thanks to Claire - who organised the whole extravaganza - we were picked up and off we went. I think we really entertained the locals, as four internationals rushed around the little grocery store buying everything in sight!! With our chaperones at the car and dogging our every step throughout the store. It was quite the day! We went from the grocery store, to the deaf centre (Atfaluna) which has lovely hand made items by all of the people who attend the institution. Unfortunately the hours of the store had recently changed so we didn’t have a chance to buy anything, but it is definitely worth a return visit. Then we went to this lovely Indonesian shop. I know, I live in Gaza and I go to an Indonesian shop to pick up curios. But I did get a lovely balinese fruit bowl :)

From there our driver took us to get the best falafel in Gaza. Oh my God!! It was the most amazing falafel  I have ever eaten!!! It was so absolutely divine! Falafel is one of my favourite foods ever, and this was the first time I had had it in Gaza. This is the sad part of living in such a removed manner. And then we managed to discover a fresh juice shop. So off we tromp - us four international girls plus our entourage of drivers and minders - to have some fresh fruit-juice cocktails. They were absolutely lovely, but I felt like such a tool! We move ten feet up the street and we have to establish a new security perimeter....god, the people who were stopping to stare....

From there we went to the office - one day off for a weekend is enough, you should have seen the state of my inbox and the number of things that needed to get done. The world unfortunately does not stop for saturdays....my boss was in when we got into the office. He was so happy that we had had a chance to go grocery shopping. I mean, really thrilled that we had been able to, and just happy that we were happy. Thats one of the things that makes him such an amazing boss. He really cares about his team and whether or not we are happy. It makes such a difficult situation much more manageable.

Anyway, I put in a few hours then headed home to make pizza! yes, this is the only other thing to do in Gaza: cook. We made the pizza from scratch, the dough and the sauce, and then assembled it all together and had a lovely evening of pizza and red wine. Sometimes, when you’re sitting there with your friends its possible to forget where you are, and pretend that life is normal.

I also managed to grab a few hours in the sun on the roof. I sat up there and read my book and enjoy one of the last warm days. It was fantastic! Early November and I am sitting on our roof top in the sun in a short sleeved shirt and rolled up jeans! How lovely!!! And I sat up there until the sun began to set. And then I watch the sun set over the Mediterranean and the fishing boats get pulled out. Its an amazing sight at twilight to see the fishing boats lining up on the horizon, their lights flickering on in random clutches. I took a few pictures, but none quite do the scene justice. I will try to create a flickr account over the next few (off) days and post the link to it here. I am accumulating quite a collection of pictures.

And then it was back to work, bright and early on a Sunday morning. Yes, that is still weird for me as well. It also sucks because all of a sudden the week has two ‘Monday’s’ - Monday in the sense of the first day of the week and Monday as in the actual Monday. In general both are as lame as the other and it is definitely my least favourite portion of the week.

Sunday was long, slightly productive, and very frustrating. I spent most of the day trying to track down people who I needed to contact in order to do my job and no one would answer the phone. Hence the reason that I think that I have been blacklisted in some of the other offices books.... But I persevered and things finally got done.

The only truly lame thing about my position is that I am totally the whipping boy. Does anyone know where that term actually came from? Back in the day the aristocracy would have a boy of the same age as their sons - usually one of the servants children - and every-time the aristocrats son got in trouble and needed to be punished the other boy receive whatever punishment was due. Remember, this was the time of major corporal punishment.

Anyway, sometimes I very much feel like that. Like I get the blame for situations very much beyond my control. A shooting the messenger syndrome. I suppose that with the highs of every job also come the lows, and really this is something very, very minor in comparison to the highs!! Plus, spending a solid 45 minutes doing cardio in the gym is the perfect cure to such issues.

Monday - oh god, this Monday....for anyone following the news they will understand that introduction. Monday was the day that all hell broke loose in Gaza, at least this week it was.

I got into the office, was trying to organise my day - I needed to squash in 5 full days of work into 3.5 days, somehow - and it seemed like it all might work. We had the British Consul General coming to visit, some high level Portuguese diplos from the EU coming in, and while it was a tight schedule I felt like it would all work. Then the emails from our FSCO started: ‘There will be rallies throughout the strip and particularly in Gaza City to commemorate the third anniversary of Yasser Arafat’s death. It is recommended that all staff remain alert and that all non-essential movement is cancelled’. Well, that blew up in our faces. We all ended up sealed in the compound for a few hours as the gunfire and bombs exploded around us. And here I am hauling ass to try and get my work done as it sounds like war has erupted around us.

Then, I am finally getting my work load under control, not jumping at every explosion that sounds - and there were many - but a colleague comes running in and asks me to go and babysit the EU diplos over lunch so he can go and meet with the British. So, here I am, all of 6 weeks in Gaza, baby-sitting some EU diplos over lunch while Gaza is going to war. God, thats one for the CV. It was mostly fine until the sonic bomb - thats what I’m told they’re called, basically they’re just really, really loud explosions, sound bombs - started going off over in the street next to the compound. Trying to corral diplos is like trying to corral my boss.....no one wanted to admit that it was an issue and they wanted to keep sitting outside while we had lunch. We finally compromised and moved inside the canteen. Go me and my negotiating skills.

And the day kind of just continued in the same manner....luckily my boss postponed his departure, which gave me the rest of the day to make up for time that I had lost. But gosh, it really was a nightmare of a day. And by the end of it my neck and shoulders were just a mess! It wasn’t so much the mini-war breaking out in the streets of Gaza - although that was a bit nerver-wracking. Much more so it was the sheer frustration at the bureaucracy. I get a phone call about these factsheets I have been working on from the person in another field office who has been co-ordinating the printing in Ramallah, because its a bit difficult to print in Gaza, and this is their turf and printer. So, I get a call at 1400hrs. asking me to please send in the final version as she would like to leave early today and needs to get it to the printer in the next few minutes. I was completely aghast. Aside from the fact that I work at least a 12 hour day - on this occasion it was a 15.5hr one - I tried explaining that my boss was still in meetings and I needed his approval. At this point she got huffy and started complaining that she couldn’t hear me. I was this close to flipping out on her. The reason she couldn’t hear me? The fucking sonic bombs and sporadic gunfire around the compound! I was like, yeah, I have a bit more to deal with here. I am sorry that you want to skive off and leave early. Give me their number and I will coordinate with them. Have a nice day.

And so we went through another 6 versions or so - another set of people in West Bank who dislike me! Although I did abase myself before them, and thank them profusely, so that has to count for something. And the rest of the day mostly just passed. Getting by doing things and trying to make it all work. And many hours later I finally got to go home. And what did I do? I went home and baked brownies. Because when life is exploding around you - literally - cooking is very soothing. And everyone likes brownies, so it was a nice treat for the office the next day. And the left-overs in the cooking dish, plus a couple of glasses of red wine, were the perfect end to the day.

Tuesday was another roller coaster. I was delivered with the task of arranging a birthday party for that evening at 1900hrs, on top of everything else I had to get done! But, it happened. And I even got to go out on a field visit!! Which was nice well, the school visit was fun, the health centre visit was okay, bar for the leering stares and comments Steph and I received. Man, I can handle anyone now! Bring on that obnoxious guy from the Bok Bar last Spring!

Anyway, I was super-secretary, arranging parties, airline tickets, hotels, and all other usual duties. As well as juggling multiple telephones and fobbing off people who my boss didn’t want to talk to. The birthday party - for Walid, our fantastic field office chef - was great. The food was lovely, there was a cake with lots of candles, and its always fun when we all get together. It really is a fantastic bunch of people. And even though we are all very, very different we all get along so well and there is never a dull moment! Then we retreated to the other residence to celebrate another friends birthday. There was lots of champagne and more cake! Oh, and more interesting people to meet!! Its crazy all of the cool people I meet. I met another colleagues partner who has just finished a piece on the smuggling tunnels for the Economist. This makes him like a god in my eyes - if you will recall my love for the Economist!!

Oh, and on that note, I finally figured out where I can get my subscription sent to, so I am in heaven to find out when it will start being delivered! Then there is someone else I can add to my ‘harass’ list - the drivers who go out and pick up the post!!

And then that takes us to today. Wednesday. Wow. My life looks a lot more interesting when I write it all out. I never would have though that I could take up four pages worth of space. Maybe I just use of lots of paragraph breaks.....

Today started off fine. I have discovered that if I do not have internet at home then the mornings progress well, in fact I have time to do other things, like the dishes or tidy up a bit or other random things. This morning it was finish packing - which really consisted of throwing a few jerseys and a coat into a suitcase to take to London. And then rushing downstairs in an effort to not miss the convoy in. I made the convoy and then had to spend a few very frustrating hours in the office not able to accomplish much, waiting for everyone else to come to work so that I could get things done. Again, I was super-secretary, and stuff happened. I also got tasked with entertaining a visiting admin director, which was actually kind of cool. its fun the people I get to hang out with.

And it was nice that as I was frantically running out of the office to make my convoy to Erez my boss felt the need to ask me to please come back - ‘now don’t just run off to London, we need you to come back to Gaza!’. Its always nice to feel appreciated.

And then we convoyed off to the border and played the waiting game. That seems to be the story of my life, which is funny, because I am SO not a patient person!

So finally the word comes back, our two colleagues with the LP’s can drive through, we have to walk. Yes, we know we have to walk. No, you have to walk to the tunnel entrance. No, no, thats haram, we’re not allowed to do it. Well you have to. No we don’t.

And then there was fun phone tag between our security officer, and our IDF liaison, who it turned out was not at Erez but on the way to Jerusalem and thus having a hard time coordinating with the IDF at Erez. What a zoo. Eventually it was all sorted out and we got driven up to the tunnel entrance, where we then got to repeat the delightful experience of walking through the border.

It was actually a bit funny. Well, maybe not if you’re my colleague Yoshiko, but it was funny for me. I always seem to come out as the innocuous one (knock on wood), which is funny. At Erez they have this full body scan thing, which they did on me, I was fine and got buzzed through. They did it to Yoshiko and apparently something caught there eye, because there then ensued a 10 minute discussion as to what was around her chest area. As she pointed out, her under garments. What? My bra. Oh. Is there something in your bra? Besides the obvious, no. But it is an under-wire. Under-wire? Yes, you know, the wire that supports. This was made even more hilarious by the fact that you’re not actually speaking face-to-face with a person, but through an intercom with someone in a glass both 30 feet above you. There were these two girls talking to Y, but there supervisor was back there smirking. Punks.

And then we finally left. On the open road! Music going, and straight to the coffee shop. Cappuccinos all around - fresh milk! Oh, but before we left one of the security guys was asking why we were just standing there. But I got the usual ‘ma'am’ god I hate that! I have broken our cps of it. I told them it was just ridiculous to call me that. Not only am I too young to be a ma'am, but they are all much older than me and should not be addressing me as such!

Anyway, in the three hours that it took us to go from the office to Aromas - the coffee shop - I received 4 calls from Dustin, 2 from Stephanie, and 1 from John. Not sure what kind of a holiday this is going to be if those are the numbers that they are starting with!

Aromas was fantastic! We sat there with our coffees and pastry’s and tried at first not to mention the ‘G’ word. Then realised that as we had just showed up in a UN car with our UN ID’s around our necks it was pretty obvious where we were from. So we gave up and took to retelling stories from the day. There were a few field visits, apparently the smugglers tunnels are in fine form and have been turned into quite the industry. Its odd really, the things that we sit there and discuss in our free time, you would think that we would want to get away from work...

And then we continued on to Jerusalem. We went to Claire’s place - as Saskia is staying at Dustin’s and they’re neighbours. Only we didn’t have his key and Claire wasn’t back yet, so we set up our laptops on one of their garden walls and sat their mooching off the internet. Quite the sight I am sure! And then we sat and had drinks with Claire and her husband. It was so lovely and normal. And then we went out for dinner!!! If you could only hear the tone of voice with which I said that. Absolute excitement. You would swear that I live in a box or something.... well, I sort of do.....

Anyway, we went out for sushi, it was fantastic! And so nice to be around other people. I love the people I work with, but if you’re with the same 25 people all of the time there is never any ‘background’ noise. You’re all the key players in the play and there’s no kind of other people. Sitting in a restaurant surrounded by strangers is sheer bliss! And I think that we were quite entertaining to everyone else....at least we didn’t insult anyone, which considering the Gaza stories that we were break out was pretty amazing. I am still hesitant to tell people what I do or who I work for in Israel, I am scared that someone will just snap or something.

And then we went back to Claire’s, dropping off the others on the way. Lovely, lovely Claire agreed to let me jut nap on her couch. Which was fantastic. I tried reading a book for a while, but ended up dozing off for about an hour before I had to take on the next endeavor of meeting my taxi driver. Wow, I am becoming really good at just doing things. You have to lose a lot of that fear of being the idiot or looking silly before you can really learn to just live life. I am still very much a student in that area, but I am getting better.

Anyway, I caught my taxi - a driver recommended by Johanne, a nice Palestinian guy - and off we went to Ben Gurion. We got stopped at one of the checkpoints and the guys were kind of hassling him - even though he was addressing them in perfect Hebrew - then they started asking me questions. I had been told to just tell them I was coming from Jerusalem. So I did and - this is the wonderful part - as soon as I showed them my UN ID everything was fine. How did I manage before this??

And then we were at the airport. Ah, yes, Ben Gurion. Always good for a bit of harassment. Actually, I have to say that while they may ask intrusive questions they are ultimate professionals. Unlike that hick Texan immigration idiot who felt it was appropriate to threaten me. Anyway, I must have gotten the nicest interrogator in Ben Gurion! She kept apologising for having to ask me all of these personal questions (where I live, who I associate with etc. etc.) and I think I made her feel even worse by smiling and being polite and not getting upset. That makes them feel guilty. I suppose it is one of my life’s guilty pleasures :)

But then that was over and it really wasn’t so bad. I had learned my lesson and didn’t show them my British passport, just the South African one and the UN papers. I only showed my British one to the airline desk. See, I am learning the ways. And then we had to do the scanning thing. I think I scared some of the American tourists :) They very nicely offered to let me go in front, so I said thanks and plonked down my bag. Then the guy running the machine saw the ‘5’ sticker - which is one of the highest security levels - and said that I would have to scan my hand luggage and remove my computer to be scanned separately. I had been expecting it so wasn’t flustered. But then these Americans made to do the same, so I very nicely told them that I was high level security which was why I had to do this, but they needn’t worry. Hehehe, that was a great look that I got....

Then we had to swab down the inside of my suitcase to be checked. I had to explain what I do. I got lots of curious questions from the Israeli’s about what it was actually like in Gaza - they seemed oddly interested and surprised - and then questioned as to why I was not yet learning Hebrew. I explained that it was on the list, but that I had been here 1 month and was based in Gaza - not the most useful language there.

And then I got to check in at the airline desk. Which was pleasantly simple in comparison to everything else. And then came the next round of personal security. Again I got sent to row 14 - the lovely ‘5’ sticker - and again the guy standing there didn’t believe me and tried to send me to another row. They really amuse me! And then I went through the whole rigamarole of having everything swabbed down from plastic explosives again. Although, this time they didn’t pat me down, but they cleaned off my shoes which was rather appreciated.

And then the final step of passport control. Overall the whole thing took only an hour, which is pretty damn good considering my situation. My boss would be proud, they finally hired someone who doesn’t look like a terrorist :)

um, then I sat and mostly wrote this before running off to board my lovely 0530hrs flight - which it turns out could not leave until 0600hrs due to noise ordinance. You would think that their schedules would take this into account. The flight was fine. I was surround by some rather annoying American's on a ‘pilgrimage’ visit - I would love to know what they actually visited.

God, I sound a bit condescending. Sorry, but living here, actually living here, makes you see things very differently.

And I sat next to a quiet Dutch woman on the plane - a bit odd, but nice enough (just like you Cat ;) ) she very nicely shook my hand and welcomed me to the Netherlands when we landed. It was quite sweet.

And now I am sitting in Schipol, trying to finish this off before my battery dies. There is some more commentary that I want to add, but considering that this is already running to 7 pages and I highly doubt that it will manage to keep anyone’s attention. Omg, weird, some dude just asked me if I was going to Bucharest because his wife forgot her passport and ID card with him.....people can be kind of weird. Or maybe its some kind of code! Maybe he thinks I am a spy and will respond with some pre-set response....

Anyway, I’ll wind this up. I still have another 2.5hrs until my flight to London is supposed to board. Since my laptop battery is pretty much dead I am not sure what I am going to do to entertain myself....maybe eat a sandwich or read my book. Well, I am going in search of a coffee - fresh milk! and then I will try to find my gate and hunker down until its time to board. I cannot believe that I am finally so close to London! I just want to be there. Even if it is going to be ridiculously cold. And I SO don’t have the right clothes.....

Roger. Out.

(I miss my radio a little bit and hearing the ever comforting: ‘Roger. Send.’)